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Description

Featuring Saint and a random NPC

Autumn, Year 771 of the New Age,

Glenwood, Glenmore

---

He'd seen the commontion on a casual stroll through the forest. The stag stading over a young doe, voice raised, harsh words lashing down at her.

She was beyond pleading and apologies. She simply cowered. Silent tears falling from her eyes.

Then he struck her and that was the last straw.

Die.

---

"MURDER! KILL! COWARD!"

The ghostly crows screamed in a language unheard by the fawnlings in the forest, but their squawks and cries spoke of their viscious anger. Their voices sounded echoed, broken and not of this world. Their ghastly wings beat without a sound, their feet and claws gripping and ruffled fur and hide. The air the beat down onto the fleeing beast felt as though the forest hand been plunged into the depths of winter. The stag ran and ran, eyes wide with fear, heart pounding, mind racing. He could barely catch a breath, his legs felt as though they were filled with boulders. But he had to run. Had to get away from these creatures.

"KILL! KILL! DIE!"

It was a controlled path the crows led their prey down, twisting and turning between the tight trees of the midst of the Glenwood. No dens were near here, no patrols at this hour. Everything was silent. Silent until the beating of hooves and haunting screeches of the crows built up and up until it was the only thing that anything could hear. The sound that filled the whole forest.

It was the sound that took control of the Blackwood's attention, turned his mind to his task. He pushed from against the tree he had been leaning again, took his place just from the path. The thick trees lent well to creating shadows, the moon barely able to trickle through even the empty, leafless branches.

"DIE! DIE! DIE!"

His words. He didn't understand their meaning, but he knew it was time. The sound of hoofbeats and pants was almost deafening. The cries the stag made now, sobs as tears streamed frm his eyes. Pathetic. He desereved it. Deserved everything that came to him.

In a flash, he was in view.

In a flash, he was in the path. Head dropped. Rack colliding with the fleeing creature. Tines digging into his side before he dropped.

The coward fell hard, sliding across the forest floor, crashing through the grass and brush untill a sickening crack sounded as the heavy weight collided with a tree.

Die.

All the Blackwood could think. Over and over again like a prayer in his head. A morbid chant pushing him forward. Every step towards the sad creature crumpled on the ground. There was no movement, no sound. The cool air of the evening, forzen by the prescnece of the crows that had landed upon the low hanging branches nearby, did not steam with any breath from the stag that lay upon the ground.

Dead.

Done.

Song recommendation: www.youtube.com/watch?v=oniytG…

Description

Featuring Saint and a random NPC

Autumn, Year 771 of the New Age,

Glenwood, Glenmore

---

He'd seen the commontion on a casual stroll through the forest. The stag stading over a young doe, voice raised, harsh words lashing down at her.

She was beyond pleading and apologies. She simply cowered. Silent tears falling from her eyes.

Then he struck her and that was the last straw.

Die.

---

"MURDER! KILL! COWARD!"

The ghostly crows screamed in a language unheard by the fawnlings in the forest, but their squawks and cries spoke of their viscious anger. Their voices sounded echoed, broken and not of this world. Their ghastly wings beat without a sound, their feet and claws gripping and ruffled fur and hide. The air the beat down onto the fleeing beast felt as though the forest hand been plunged into the depths of winter. The stag ran and ran, eyes wide with fear, heart pounding, mind racing. He could barely catch a breath, his legs felt as though they were filled with boulders. But he had to run. Had to get away from these creatures.

"KILL! KILL! DIE!"

It was a controlled path the crows led their prey down, twisting and turning between the tight trees of the midst of the Glenwood. No dens were near here, no patrols at this hour. Everything was silent. Silent until the beating of hooves and haunting screeches of the crows built up and up until it was the only thing that anything could hear. The sound that filled the whole forest.

It was the sound that took control of the Blackwood's attention, turned his mind to his task. He pushed from against the tree he had been leaning again, took his place just from the path. The thick trees lent well to creating shadows, the moon barely able to trickle through even the empty, leafless branches.

"DIE! DIE! DIE!"

His words. He didn't understand their meaning, but he knew it was time. The sound of hoofbeats and pants was almost deafening. The cries the stag made now, sobs as tears streamed frm his eyes. Pathetic. He desereved it. Deserved everything that came to him.

In a flash, he was in view.

In a flash, he was in the path. Head dropped. Rack colliding with the fleeing creature. Tines digging into his side before he dropped.

The coward fell hard, sliding across the forest floor, crashing through the grass and brush untill a sickening crack sounded as the heavy weight collided with a tree.

Die.

All the Blackwood could think. Over and over again like a prayer in his head. A morbid chant pushing him forward. Every step towards the sad creature crumpled on the ground. There was no movement, no sound. The cool air of the evening, forzen by the prescnece of the crows that had landed upon the low hanging branches nearby, did not steam with any breath from the stag that lay upon the ground.

Dead.

Done.

Song recommendation: www.youtube.com/watch?v=oniytG…